


2012: Smallville

by Soraya (soraya2004), soraya2004



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, Future Fic, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-23
Updated: 2009-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soraya2004/pseuds/Soraya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soraya2004/pseuds/soraya2004
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world as he knows it may come to an end</p>
            </blockquote>





	2012: Smallville

  
He'd always tried to be a good father, one who was honest, patient and supportive. It took all of those qualities to raise the kind of child, who'd dropped literally out of the sky into his proverbial lap. It also meant that he'd got used to dealing with the unexpected on a daily basis; as Clark's father, that was his job.

When Lana Lang showed up at the farm one evening, clutching what looked like an old yearbook, he showed her in because she was Clark's friend. After that, he listened while she poured her heart out, because Martha expected him to be polite to all of Clark's friends, even the _bald-headed Luthor_ ones. Halfway through her rambling, though, she came out with something that really grabbed his attention.

"I want to spend my life with Clark," she said. "I know I've made mistakes and I've made some very bad choices, but the truth is I'm willing to do anything to get him back, even if it means proposing to him myself."

***

It was a brilliant idea.

Absolutely brilliant!

And like so many brilliant ideas, all it needed was a little nurturing and a little encouragement to turn it into a brilliant _plan_. So he did what any good father would have done in the face of his only son's ex-girlfriend and her incredibly brilliant idea. He said, "That's a brilliant idea, Lana!"

"Really?" She blinked those big eyes of hers at him, shaking the tresses of her long, dark hair. "Because I wasn't sure it would work. I mean, you _know_ how things ended between us."

Martha's sudden coughing fit threw him a little, but he bounced back brilliantly, patting Martha gently on the shoulder before waving for Lana to continue.

"Besides—" Lana's puzzled looking gaze drifted away from Martha and back to him. "Clark's a traditional guy. I don't know how he'll react to _me_ doing the asking."

"Oh, he'll love it," Jonathan assured her, ignoring the snorting sound Martha made. "More than that, I'm glad you decided to come to us first, Lana. It's so rare for someone of your generation to do things, let's face it, the old-fashioned way." And really it was; these days, most people forgot the basic courtesy of asking parents' permission before courting one of their children. He was just about to congratulate himself on his fine parenting instincts when he noticed the slightly shifty expression on Lana's face.

"Okay, so I _did_ have a tiny bit of an ulterior motive," she admitted very quietly. "It's just there's a lot to do, and I don't know if I'll be able to get everything ready in time."

"I'll help," Jonathan offered at once. After all, _that_ was what he was good at: nurturing, encouraging and above all helping.

He pretended not to notice the look Martha gave him as he and Lana sat down at the family table to discuss plans.

***

Later, once Lana had gone, Martha really gave him a piece of her mind. Which essentially meant she just shook her head at him while she said, "I hope you know what you're doing!"

After decades of marriage, Jonathan knew better than to answer that. Besides, he _did_ know what he was doing! Lana was the perfect addition to their family. And, fine, the girl might not be able to cook worth a damn, but _by God_ did she know her way around machinery.

He still couldn't quite believe it himself: that underneath all that big hair and pink fluff lay one of the best mechanics in the state! No way in hell was he letting her get away. Not when he could see it all so clearly: Sunday afternoons with just the two of them out back working on the tractor while Martha and Clark stayed in the kitchen, doing whatever it was that boys did with their mothers.

Yes, he thought, Lana was the perfect daughter-in-law. And, more importantly, it was all going to _be_ perfect. With his help, nothing would go wrong!

***

Two days later at about two minutes to midnight, everything went wrong.

***

"What do you mean you've run out of room?" Jonathan tried not to yell at the girl. He was pretty damn sure that he'd bought enough fabric to cover a simple question! "I gave you a roll of that stuff. How could you possibly have run out of room?"

All at once, Lana's face turned a rather ominous shade of pink.

"Oh, no," he groaned, and Lana took a delicate, shuddering breath. "No, please, don't cry! I'm sure we can find a way to fix this."

"But there's no time," she wailed. "I called the store and they can't get another shipment in till Tuesday."

Which would be several days too late—they both knew that.

He took a deep breath himself then, because there really wasn't much he _could_ say without sounding frustrated and angry. Which he was, and incredibly so. He just couldn't understand where _this_ generation had gone so wrong or why on earth they had to be so verbose! In his day, things were much simpler. Simple questions with simple answers, and—

Like that, he had an epiphany.

"Okay, here's what we'll do . . .."

***

On February 29th 2012, Jonathan strode into Smallville's inaugural Leap Year dance with the confidence of a man certain that life was about to change for the better.

He had Martha on one arm looking radiant as always. Clark stood beside them, charming the mayor with behind-the-scenes stories of life at the Daily Planet. Around the room, he could see old friends and family gathering together. In fact, with the exception of the bald-headed Luthor standing next to Clark, everything was perfect.

At precisely 10pm, Lana stepped centre stage just as they'd planned. After tapping the microphone a few times, she said, "So, now that I've got your attention," to hoots of delighted laughter because she'd quite clearly had everyone's attention all night in those designer clothes and expensive jewellery.

She looked attractively nervous; and despite knowing they had everything covered, Jonathan couldn't help feeling a few nerves of his own. This was it; this was the moment everything was going to change. He smiled at her, reassuring as always.

She smiled back before she fixed her gaze on Clark. "It's a leap year," she went on, sounding more confident now. "Which means it's a chance to break tradition, to ask the kind of questions we wouldn't normally ask." And in the hush that settled over the room, she tapped two buttons on the remote control she was carrying.

***

Jonathan watched that banner unfurl with a sense of pride and achievement.

'Clark Kent,' it said in bold purple letters. 'I love you. I think I've loved you from the first moment we met. I know I'll love you until the day I die. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me? LL.'

That they'd pulled it all together in a few days was nothing short of amazing, especially given Lana's tendency to ramble. But that was all in the past, he reminded himself; the message was up there now for _everyone_ to see.

Naturally, it took some time for people to read the whole thing, long-winded as it was. But once they did, there were sighs all round; this kind of true romance always made people sigh. It even made _him_ sigh a little knowing that his Sunday afternoon dreams were about to come true. He watched Lana standing there on that stage waiting, looking pink and poised and perfect as always. _Everyone_ , it seemed, was waiting with bated breath for what was sure to be an incredibly romantic response from Clark to this incredibly romantic proposal.

Then, Clark opened his mouth, and with a few simple words—

> _"Yes! Of course I'll marry you, Lex. I love you too!"_

—he ruined everything.

***

The next few minutes were full of the kind of chaos, which had come to characterize his life since that first meteor shower hit Smallville in 1989.

There was a swell of noise in the room. Some of it sounded like cheering, many people were clapping, and in the background Jonathan thought he heard a cat squeal, "No," at the top of its lungs. Though by this point he wasn't sure about anything any more. He was too busy wondering what the hell had just happened.

Lex, for his part, looked equally confused. But the younger Luthor was nothing if not an opportunist; and he could only stand on the sidelines watching in horror as Lex grabbed the opportunity—and _Clark_ —with both hands.

"You're sure this is what you want?"

"Yes," Clark yelled, and Jonathan couldn't help noticing that Clark was doing some grabbing of his own. "I've _always_ . . . but I wasn't sure you felt—you know, after Desiree and Helen and—"

Lex pressed two fingers up against Clark's mouth, stopping that stuttering string of words. "Clark, it's you," he said. "It has only ever been you." His voice sounded absolutely raw, and the look on his _face_ . . ..

Jonathan shook his head. This wasn't happening; no way was this happening, not on his watch. He felt like his heart was climbing into his throat as Clark started trailing gentle kisses down Lex's fingers. Things only got worse when he saw Lex close his eyes and then sway toward Clark, breathing very hard. He took a step forward, not entirely sure what he planned to do, only knowing that he had to stop this before it went too far.

But Lex said, "I can't believe this! I mean, I hoped—I _wanted_ —"

Which, apparently, made it _Clark's_ turn to stop Lex from stuttering. To his dismay, Clark proceeded to do this using a lot of tongue.

After that, the cheering—and it was _definitely_ cheering now—got significantly louder. And in the midst of all that chaos, it took him a while to notice that his can of beer had crumpled in his hand and that his feet were soaking wet.

***

Martha decided to drive them home, and for once he decided to let her. It meant he could seethe all the way. Which he did quite spectacularly, re-living that disastrous moment again and again.

_Of course I'll marry you, Lex!_

*Lex*!

 _That_ wasn't how things were supposed to go. On top of that, _now_ he was faced with the prospect of having Lionel Luthor's son as part of his family. Unbelievable!

When they reached the farm, he slammed out of the truck and then slammed his way into the house, too angry to notice at first that he'd essentially slammed the door in Martha's face. Oh, she was going to make him pay for that later; he knew that much about the woman he'd married. But right then, with the words: ' _Of course I'll marry you, Lex!_ ' still running through his brain, he couldn't quite bring himself to care.

"Jonathan—"

"No, Martha, no!"

"It's what our son wants. Don't you want Clark to be happy?"

"Of course I do," he shouted at her. "But with Lana— _Lana_!"

Martha threw both hands up in the air. "You've got no one to blame for this but yourself!"

"Me?" Jonathan gasped, absolutely stunned. "How is any of this _my_ fault?"

"Well, it _was_ your idea!"

" _What_?"

"The initials, Jonathan," she reminded him. "You said so yourself. You said Lana had wasted nearly all the space on that banner, so _you_ came up with the idea to use her initials instead of her name."

"We ran out of time!" He felt compelled to point that out yet again, a bit defensively this time. When Martha responded by raising an eyebrow at him, he sputtered, "Oh, come on! What else were we supposed to do? And how the hell was I supposed to know that _that Luthor_ would be the first thing on Clark's mind when he saw that banner?"

"I don't know, Jonathan. Honestly, I've got no idea why Clark would immediately think of Lex if someone were to, say, put up the initials 'LL' in giant purple."

She was laughing at him. Somehow, even though her facial expression hadn't changed, he _knew_ she was laughing at him, he just couldn't prove it. And because he didn't want to make an even bigger fool of himself in front of her, he decided not to say anything more for the rest of the evening.

***

Sunday came with little fanfare, and with it came Clark and that bald-headed Luthor. Having had a few days to calm down, Jonathan tried his best to be accommodating. Still, he found it hard to look Clark's fianc in the face and _not_ think about Lana or what might have been. After lunch, he stepped outside—to be with Bessie, he told himself, and not because he was trying to get away. Of course, the person _he wasn't trying to get away from_ decided to follow him a few minutes later. Which effectively defeated the object of him _not trying to get away_.

"Mr. Kent," Lex said, "may I join you for a moment?"

At which point, Lex stepped up beside him, not really giving him much of a choice in the matter. He could see Clark and Martha watching them from the kitchen window, no doubt to make sure _he_ was on his best behaviour. So he smiled, much as it pained him to do so, before saying, "What can I do for you, Lex?"

"Actually, I was hoping I could do something for you."

"Really?" He tried not to imagine a succession of Luthors jumping off cliffs without parachutes. "What did you have in mind?"

Lex ran a hand over his scalp in what seemed to be a nervous gesture. "Mrs. Kent mentioned that Bessie's engine—well, all of Bessie really—might need a little work."

"And what if she does?" Jonathan murmured casually, expecting Lex to now make some sort of offer about replacing Bessie, after which he would be well justified in killing the boy.

Only, Lex said, "I would like to help, if I can. I'm very well qualified to do so. In fact, as a mechanic, I hold every Automotive Service Excellence rating there is."

"Wait a minute!" And Jonathan actually pinched himself because he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. " _You're_ a qualified Advanced Engine Performance Specialist?" That rating was better than Lana's! "Why on earth would you—I mean, don't you have people for that kind of thing?"

"I do," Lex told him, shrugging a little. "But I like cars, and not just to drive them. There's something so satisfying about being able to pull them apart and make them work with your own bare hands. You know what I mean?"

Yes, Jonathan had to admit that he knew exactly what Lex meant. After all, he'd had Bessie for years now, and it was a source of pride that he'd managed to keep her running all by himself. He smiled at Lex for a moment. Lex smiled back. And, oh dear God, were they bonding?

Jonathan turned away, not sure he was ready for _that_. He'd spent so long holding on to his dislike of all things Luthor, he didn't quite know how to let go. Glancing toward the house, he could see Martha at the window smiling at him, encouraging him. And Clark . . ..

Well, Clark was just so damn happy that he was literally floating right beside her.

After a while, he said, "Okay, Lex, I think I'll take you up on that offer," a bit embarrassed by how gruff his voice sounded. He was grateful Lex kept his mouth shut after that and didn't force him to say anything else.

Perhaps it wasn't quite the end of the world after all.

  
The End.  



End file.
